


The Game of Kings

by wraith17



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraith17/pseuds/wraith17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They lose more chessboards this way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Kings

Strolling into the library on the TARDIS Missy flashes a toothy smile at the Doctor lounging in a black arm chair reading a human novel.

“Honey.” She coos, gaining the Doctor’s attention from that stupid book, setting down her burden between his arm chair and the one sitting across from it. “Let’s play a game.”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow in surprise. “A human game? You want to play chess?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes, love.” She answers plainly, pointing her device nonchalantly at the fireplace causing a fire to whoosh to life in the hearth. “Shall we? You can be white.”

He still looks suspicious but never the less begins the game. They go back and forth in silence once the Doctor starts losing pieces to Missy’s attack, suddenly getting invested in the game when it became apparent that losing was a very real possibility. Keeping her main goal in mind, Missy unpins her cameo brooch from her throat and unbuttons the first few buttons on her blouse. Just enough that when she leans over, and Missy makes sure to do so, the Doctor can see through the opening and get an eyeful of corset enhanced cleavage. She’d ensured that she was tied into it good and tight, making her hourglass figure even more enhanced.

“Something the matter dear?” Missy asks as she takes his bishop while his brain is scrambled by her breasts.

“No.” He squeaks out, making a counter move, a poor counter move that has Missy grinning and running her finger tips over her plump ruby lips, similarly painted nails prodding at her lips suggestively. 

The Doctor gulps, eyes riveted on her fingers, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips as her hand moves to stroke suggestively over her king piece. He whimpers as Missy’s knee slides between his, parting his thighs and causing a violently red blush spreading over his face and neck.

“Check mate.”

The announcement comes as a complete shock to him, the Doctor looking down at the pieces with poorly concealed amazement. He looks up at Missy, who is sitting back in her chair with a cat-who-got-the-cream expression on her face. Her hands come up to her collar, spreading the fabric wider and showing off the delicate curve of her collarbone and the dip drawing his eyes to the generous display of cleavage.

The Doctor stands up then, casually strolling around the table, Missy sitting up properly when he reaches her side, anticipation tensing her frame. In a swift manoeuvre the Doctor pulls Missy from her chair, crashing their lips together and wresting a moan from her. His hands run over her body; running down her back, grabbing at her ass and hauling her small body into his arms.   
Missy giggles as she finds herself pinned on her back upon the chess board, various pieces digging into her back and moans as the Doctor rips open her blouse, sending the small pearl buttons flying haphazardly around the room. He smothers his face between her breasts, groaning and bunching up her skirt around her hips. Missy runs sharp nails over his back, digging them in as she grinds herself against the Doctor’s growing erection.

“Mistress.” He groans against her neck, biting the pale, swan like expanse of Missy’s throat.

“Hurry up darling.” She mewls, small fingers hurriedly unfastening his belt and freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Her hand is quick to reach out and stroke his cock, the other fondling his balls and her heeled boots scratch his hips and thighs as she shoves down his trousers and question marked underwear.

Her undergarments are not so delicately removed, the Doctor choosing instead to rend the fabric in two, leaving scraps of lace hanging off her lower half. He wastes little time, shifting himself into position before he’s inside her. Missy’s back arches off the chessboard, a wanton moan echoing in the room, her brow furrowing in pleasure as the Doctor starts a frenzied and lusty pace. The angle of his thrusts have his cock brushing against and occasionally bumping into the spot inside her that really makes her see stars. Harsh panting and grunts fall from her lover’s lips as he loses himself in the pleasure that only her body can bring him.

Missy’s arms and legs encircle and trap the Doctor, holding him close to her as he continues his ravishment of her body. He fits perfectly, the slide of him effortless between her legs, the soft wet noises their bodies make alongside the harsh slapping of flesh against flesh as he pounds into her in a way only another Time Lord could handle.

“Fu-uck.” He grunts against her ear, teeth lashing out and capturing the little lobe. The pleasure pooling and coiling in his lower abdomen is a balloon about to burst, Missy feels too good, her cunt so wet and hot and perfectly made for his cock rhythmically clenching and pulling him deeper inside her. 

“Come for me.” Missy moans into his ear, her own end mere thrusts away. She takes up the Doctor’s hand, placing its fingers upon her clit and coaxing him to finish her off. As always his face is what does it for her in the end. The sight of the Doctor contorted in the sweet agony of le petit mort has she squeezing down around him, releasing a scream into the warm air as her body milks his cock for all he’s got. 

Panting the Doctor collapses against Missy and before either of them so much as have the idea to move the chessboard cracks under the combined weight of their bodies. The wood broken and crushed under them. Missy giggles from her place under the Doctor, reaching up and kissing him gently on the lips.

“We lose more chessboards this way.” He says with a grin, nudging Missy’s nose with his. 

“And what a way to go.” Missy returns, holding her love close to her, coaxing his head onto her breast, letting him rest against her. Waiting for his recuperation time to elapse before she can have him in the ruins. “At least we finished the game this time.”


End file.
